chronicles
by just delete this account
Summary: His mother told him that Sean would break his heart. And break it he did. HankxSean


**December 7, 1995**

Hank sat alone at his table with his little cupcake. He stared at the 6 shaped candle on it, smiling a bit forlornly. Before she rushed out the door this morning, his mother promised him that she'd have a bigger cake for him when she gets home. Now he knew what she meant. He picked it up from his open lunch bag with his tiny pale fingers and set it down in front of him with a sigh. He hated to think about it but he knew that his mother was lying. Not intentionally, but yes. She'd forget. She always forgot, she was a busy woman and she had many, more important things to remember than a silly little cake.

Hank was a very perceptive boy and he knew his mother. She probably packed the cupcake in his lunchbag so that in the likely event of her forgetting the cake, she'd already have this as a consolation.

Hank poked at the cupcake glumly, trying not to feel to bad about it. It's not like it's never happened before. Quite the opposite really.

…still though. It'd be nice if he could blow a candle while _someone_ sung happy birthday to him at least once in his life.

"Awww, would you look at that, it's little Henry's birthday!"

Hank looked up to find Emma Frost looking down at him haughtily with a smile that was as vile as it was charming. Emma was a pretty girl and she was older so a lot of kids liked her. She liked non of them however and she was particularly fond of letting Hank know that he was one of the highest ranked on her list of kids she hated.

"Nice cupcake dweeb," she sneered, snatching it away from Hank's fingers and throwing it to the ground, her pretty lips twisted up into a sadistic smile. Hank just let her do as she pleased. The sooner she was done, the sooner she'd go away.

All of a sudden Emma flinched and she reached up to touch the back of her neck. Hank didn't know what she found there but all of a sudden she looked terrified and his eyebrows disappeared into his hairline as she bolted, screaming at the top of her lungs. Every eye in the cafeteria was on her as she ran out the doors, clawing at her back.

"Hmph, you'd think with how mean she is, she'd be afraid of scarier stuff."

Hank looked up suddenly to find a skinny redhead standing in front of him where Emma had previously been. Freckles stood out across his pale skin like stars in the sky and when he looked down at Hank, he did so with blue eyes that seemed to smile the same time the lips a few inches below them did.

"Did you…what did you do to her?" Hank asked.

The redhead's grin widened and he held up a hand. Hank raised an eyebrow at the snail cupped in his palm.

"Put my other friend Lucas down her shirt. This is Robert, his cousin. I don't think Lucas'd be happy at all touching Emma's skin but its for a good cause so I think he don't really mind."

Hank leaned back a bit, looking up at the redhead a tiny bit warily. Normally he wasn't one to judge considering he was considered a bit strange too (he'd have friends if that wasn't the case) but seriously…this kid seemed to have a few screws loose.

The redhead ignored the look on Hank's face and continued to grin as he set Robert down on the table. He then picked up Hank's cupcake off the floor and set it down in front of him. "Sorry about Emma, no one should ever be bullied on their birthday." He said, sitting down on the bench across from Hank.

Hank shrugged. "It's okay. Thanks for chasing her away." He said, smiling hesitantly.

The redhead shrugged. "No problem. It's my birthday too, my momma always told me I should do something good on my birthday. Besides, before she came in, I was heading over here anyway. You looked like you could use somebody."

That being the first time that anyone had ever tried to be friendly with him _ever_, Hank smiled.

"You're weird. But I like you."

The redhead grinned at him again and held out a hand. "I'm Sean, happy birthday."

Hank took the proffered hand and shook it. "I'm Hank, happy birthday to you too."

**September 9, 2003**

When callused fingers slipped under his shirt and jabbed at his sides, Hank shrieked and dropped the books he was in the process of storing in his locker.

He whirled around and punched Sean in the arm as the redhead leaned away, giggling.

"Wow, you're even jumpier than usual. What's up?" Sean asked.

Hank sighed heavily and bent down to pick up his books. "I thought you were Raven." He said, glancing up at Sean from beneath his glasses.

Sean's eyebrows furrowed. "Why would you be scared of Raven? She likes you. A _lot_."

Hank sighed as he stood up. "I know. That's the problem."

He slipped the books into his locker and dutifully avoided looking at Sean when he heard the redhead release a baffled "Whaaaat? How is that a problem? The girl is undeniably hot."

Hank groaned. "She is but she's not my type." He said, pretending to rearrange stuff so he could have an excuse not to stare the _real_ reason he was avoiding Raven, in the face.

Sean released a sceptical scoff. "Okay, did you brutally turn her down? Is she out for your blood?"

"No…yes? Kind of? She tried to…well, she tried to kiss me…I sorta freaked out and ran away."

Sean guffawed and Hank resisted the urge to either bury his head in between his books or hit Sean with his locker door.

"Oh Henry, you're so cute. Saving your first kiss?" Sean asked jokingly.

Hank closed his locker and looked at Sean with an unamused glare. He was proud of himself for keeping it even as the familiar jolt in his heartbeat that he'd grown accustomed to feeling in his chest whenever Sean was around happened again. He stared up at those smiling blue eyes that only seemed to brighten through the years and that face…that strangely, uniquely attractive face and he thought _yeah, yeah I am. For someone who would never take it_

**October 12 2005**

"Hank, you're gay aren't you?"

Hank almost knocked his microscope off his desk when he flinched and jerked around to stare at Sean with wide eyes.

The redhead was lounging on his bed, hands behind his head as he gazed up at the ceiling as if he were trying to find and count all the tiny cracks in the plasma.

Hank sputtered for a few moments, stumbling over words and choking on half-formed explanations. Eventually he sighed heavily and looked down.

"Yeah…" he murmured.

Sean didn't respond right away and Hank looked up to find him looking at him with a small smile on his lips. His eyes were soft, kind, the way they'd always been and he said "We're best friends through and through aren't we?" he asked and before Hank could even process his statement, he went back to looking at the ceiling.

"Same birthday, same age, same eyes, same height…might as well go ahead and say same everything."

The statement sunk in slowly but it very surely did and after it had, Hank couldn't stop the wide smile from blooming across his lips.

For the first time since he'd discovered his feelings for him, Hank found himself hoping that they wouldn't be one-sided forever.

**June 15 2006**

"Bye Mrs. McCoy!"

Sean called out as he slipped his shoes on.

Mrs. McCoy walked out into the hall from the kitchen, towelling her hands as she went. She called a goodbye back to Sean and Sean may or may not have heard it over the small, playful scuffle that started when Hank attempted to knock him over as he slipped on his shoes, jokingly telling him to get "Out, out out! I've had enough of your face today."

Sean just laughed and went along with it, ruffling Hank's hair one last time before opening the door and walking down the driveway.

Across the street, a battered old blue pickup truck was parked. The person in it sat in great contradiction to its appearance. He was blond, blue-eyed and more handsome than someone with an attitude like his should ever be given right to be.

Hank tried not to frown as he watched Sean get into the car and lean over to peck Alex Summers; star athlete and asshole extraordinaire, on the lips.

He knew he probably shouldn't dislike Alex so much. After all, if Sean saw something in him and he openly dated Sean with no regard to his social status or without giving two shits as to what people say, then he must have some redeeming qualities.

…Oh fuck it, even if Alex turned out to be the second Messiah, Hank would _always_ dislike him.

How can he not when he was a thousand different shades of jealous?

In his peripheral vision, he saw his mom walk up next to him. "Here is the part where I play the seemingly discouraging but well-meaning mom. Give up on that kid sweetie, he'll only end up breaking your heart."

**August 19 2008**

Hank hated how no matter how he disliked Alex…he couldn't bring himself to _hate_ him.

It'd be easier if he could hate him.

Because if he hated him, he'd have a shot no matter how little.

If he hated him, maybe he could convince himself to fight him for Sean.

But how could he hate Alex when he made Sean happy?

How could he, when he did _nothing_ but make Sean happy?

Sean wanted Alex and Alex seemingly wanted no one else but Sean. As they proved when they outlasted and exceeded everyone's expectations—dating all throughout high school and…

"I can't believe you're running off to New York just so you could go to the same college as Alex. Geez Sean, just marry him why don't you?" Hank asked as he watched Sean pack, trying his hardest to swallow down the anxiety and potent feeling of loss that spiked in his gut with each new thing that Sean stuffed into his suitcase. Each one was like a slap to the face, each one branded the words "you never bothered so you lost" all over his skin. They left invisible scars but the pain that went hand in hand in them was remarkably real.

"Calm down Hank, I'll make sure you'd be the flower girl, don't worry." Sean said jokingly and Hank just threw a pillow at him. He made an offhand comment along the lines of sincerely wishing them well as Sean playfully chucked the pillow back at him and he grinned, pretending he meant it.

Although if he was trying to convince Sean or himself that he sincerely hoped they'd have some sort of fall-out and split up eventually he didn't know.

**March 11, 2009**

Hank jolted awake when he felt his phone vibrate, it did so with a sound like someone had taken a chainsaw to his desk and he sat upright, his thesis and notes fluttering to the ground as he swiped his hand over the cluttered mess on his desk, trying to find his phone among the mess.

He found it beneath the ruins of his once immaculate stack of thick textbooks and he squinted at the screen before sighing and rubbing his eyes. He didn't even bother checking the time. He didn't need it to back up an argument he'd given up trying to make. Sean's been calling him at unholy hours of the morning practically since the year began and regardless of whatever state of busy Hank was in (which was usually, "about to bust a vein trying to write my thesis or some other vital thing busy") one: Sean didn't care and two: that was cool because Hank would pick up the phone and engage him regardless.

He was lucky Hank loved him.

….Or you know, he was lucky Hank was too stupid not to put Sean behind anything else. He should stop, he was pretty sure his unrequited fixation with him was starting to trespass that line between admirable and unhealthy.

"Hello?" Hank asked, voice hoarse with sleep.

The voice that answers him back was just as hoarse but not with sleep.

Hank's eyebrows furrowed, the sleep clearing out of them like fog under a rainstorm as he listened to Sean's poor attempts at concealing the tiny little gasps he made whenever he cried. Sean never sniffled, he openly gasped and whimpered, because whenever Sean cried, there was always a _very_ good reason.

"Sean, what's wrong?" Hank asked.

_It's…It-t's o..ver Hank. Me and Alex… We're…w-we're done._

For a moment everything in Hank stopped.

And restarted with a vengeance.

Among the concern, the rising anger at hearing Sean crying, Hank felt shame, intense shame at the fact that while Sean suffered, secretly he was happy.

**March 24 2009**

Hank watched him forlornly, worriedly. Half a foot away, on the opposite end of the couch, Sean sat with his legs folded against his chest, staring down at the steaming mug of tea that Hank had forced into his hands as a remedy for the intense hangover he was suffering through.

In the gray light spilling through the blinds, Sean skin looked especially pale and sallow. There were dark circles under his eyes, which seemed to have leeched some red off of his hair and he practically _radiated_ misery. He was hurting bad, had been for a few weeks now and it hurt Hank to see him like this. Sean sniffled and Hank looked away, afraid to see his face if he started crying. His eyes land on a picture on the wall. The left half of the glass frame housing it was dented by an intricate web of cracks and fissures that obscured everything of the figure standing next to Sean, except for his short blonde hair.

Turned out that when it came down to it, like so many others, Sean and Alex's relationship was never meant to last past high school. 5 months into college, they started fighting frequently and just this month their fallouts had gotten so bad that eventually they figured out that they would rather stop seeing each other than keep trying to solve their issues.

As made obvious by the fact that Hank came all the way to New York to see him, Sean wasn't handling the break up too well. When he came in this morning, Sean was lying passed out in front of his door.

Hank heard some rustling and blinked in surprise when he felt a weight on his shoulder and long red curls that seemed dulled by depression tickle his cheek. Sean curled up against him like a lost child, hot tea abandoned on the coffee table and Hank sighed. Moving his arms, he secured them around Sean.

He wanted to tell him. He wanted to let him know that even if Alex didn't want him anymore, _he_ did. Always had. Always will.

"Why is it that no matter how much he pissed me off, I still give a fuck about him?" Sean muttered against Hank's shoulder.

Hank sighed heavily. "…I don't know Sean." _You tell me_.

**January 26 2011**

_Hi Henry!_

That was the first thing that he heard as soon as he answered his phone and Hank's eyebrows rose up in surprise, only half believing that he recognized whose voice just spoke to him. The last time he checked, the person it belonged to was still wallowing in misery, trying to pick up the pieces that Alex Summers pulled apart and left behind.

"Wow, you seem happy." Hank said, putting down the thick volume he was reading on his lap.

_I saw Alex playing tonsil hockey with some weird green-haired chick at a coffee shop. He looked like he was going to pass out when he saw me, it was pretty hilarious!_

An instant frown tugged Hank's lips down.

Sometime he wondered if Sean was doing it on purpose although the theory is absurd. But really, knowing that Sean was _still_ pining over Alex even after two years while Hank had been pining over him for almost _sixteen_ stung so much, it was puzzling how it couldn't be deliberate.

**April 12, 2011**

Hank rapped his knuckles against Sean's door impatiently for the 5th time in 2 minutes. After he'd gotten an email from Sean that was obviously typed when he was smashed beyond his mind, Hank didn't even waste two seconds thinking about whether he should come see him personally or not.

"Sean! It's me Ha-"

Suddenly the door flung open and there stood Sean, skin flushed and eyes bloodshot. An invisible cloud, thick with the smell of smoke and alcohol seemed to billow out from him and hit Hank like a brick wall. He frowned. "Sean what did you-?"

Before Hank could finish, Sean giggled drunkenly and threw himself at him.

"He's getting married. The fucker is getting married!" he said, giggles escalating to the point of being hysteric. "He only met her last December and he's fucking marrying her. Ahahahaha…what, the, ever, living, fuck?"

Sean pulled back and when he did, Hank saw that his eyes, glazed with alcohol and god knows what else flashed with barely concealed grief. "And you know what's funny?" he asked before leaning up to whisper something in Hank's ear. "I fucked him last week. Three days before people said he proposed to her."

Hank was horrified. "Oh, Sean." He murmured, arms moving to enfold Sean in a hug when the redhead's face suddenly fell against his shoulder, warm droplets immediately soaking through Hank's shirt almost as soon as Sean's face came into contact with it. Sean's hands come up to clench the back of his shirt so tight his collar strained his neck almost painfully. Hank ignored it however and clutched Sean just as tight, knowing he needed the comfort right now.

"Sean, I'm so sorry,"

Abruptly, Sean pulled away and put his fingertips to Hank's lips to keep him from talking. He glared at him through half-lidded blue eyes. "No. I don't want any apologies unless it's from him." Hank smelled blood the second Sean's skin touched his lips and he grabbed his wrist, alarmed. He looked at Sean's hand to see that his knuckles were torn and bloody, bits of glass glinting in the light. Hank grimaced and looked back up at Sean. "What did you _do_?" he asked, leading Sean inside the apartment and sitting him down on the couch. The lamp next to the sofa had been knocked to the floor so Hank had to squint to assess the damage done to Sean's hand. It looked even worse under the dim light filtering in through the open door of Sean's bathroom and Hank frowned. Sean probably smashed the medicine cabinet with his fist.

Hank began to get up with the intention of getting the first aid kit but before he could, Sean grabbed him by the arm, his grip fierce. Enough that Hank sat back down with no complaint and even more worried than before.

"Fuck the first aid Hank. You're here, that's all I need."

The statement felt like a punch to the heart but Hank ignored it. Sean was drunk and he was hurt in more ways than one. He didn't know what he was saying and even if he did, Hank should be more focused on his pain not his own.

"But Sean, your hand is going to get infected and you need-"

Sean shook his head. "No." and lunged forward, grabbing Hank by the collar of his shirt and yanking him close til they were almost nose to nose. "You know what I need? What I _really_ need right now?"

His acrid breath puffed out across Hank's lips and Hank gulped, suddenly nervous. He opened his mouth to say something and the second he did, Sean surged forward and captured his lips.

He tasted bitter…of tears, alcohol, smoke and misery but he kissed Hank in a manner that clashed with the wild, hysteric distress that he seemed to be running on and Hank was powerless not to kiss him back. More than a decade he dreamt of those lips against his and though it pained him to know that this kiss was _not at all_ he wanted it to be, nevertheless, it _was _happening and he couldn't stop.

Sean's hands seemed to be everywhere at once, his hair, his face, his clothes…

The next thing he knew, he was flat on his back, shirt gone and Sean was on him, kissing him still while trying to get rid of the rest of his clothes.

This was wrong.

So wrong.

But _god _he wanted it so bad.

**April 25, 2011**

"Hey, umm…it's me again…listen, we really have to talk…"

_Please tell me you didn't just use me_.

"I know you're there Sean. Pick up the phone. Please."

_Please._

"What happened…it's really serious and you can't tell me that it's not."

_I love you __**god dammit**__._

"Ugh, I swear to god Cassidy, if you don't talk to me soon, I will find you and punch you in the face."

_It hurts Sean. Just end my misery _please, _at least do that._

**December 7, 2011**

Hank sighed as he turned the corner to his street and he buried his nose deeper in his scarf as he hurried down the block to his apartment building.

A strong gust of wind blew, throwing snowflakes at his face and Hank squints, turning his head away. His scarf flew out behind him and the light little box clutched in his hand almost did too. Hank gripped it tighter and waited for the wind to pass before trudging up the last couple of steps to his apartment building and slipping inside.

The lift was out of order so he used the stairs and he was halfway up to his floor when his phone started buzzing in his pocket. He fished it out and answered it as he walked.

"Hello?"

_Happy Birthday honey!_

Hank smiled. "Hi mom."

He exchanged pleasantries with his mother for a bit then she asked him random, ordinary questions; How has he been? Was he eating alright? Did he have plans tonight?

_Are you doing anything with Sean?_

The mention of his name was a jab to a huge, fresh bruise and Hank frowned. He hadn't told his mother that Sean had basically dropped out of his life 8 months ago and he didn't ever want to, not wanting her to know she'd been right.

His mother told him that Sean would break his heart. And break it he did. In hindsight, he shouldn't be all that surprised. If he were to gather every memory, every chronicle of their life, he should see, as if it were printed in neon letters on a billboard that there wouldn't really be another possible outcome.

"No, ummm, Sean's busy. Listen Mom, my battery's running low, I'll call you back ok?" Hank said as he made it to his floor.

_Alright. Love you!_

Hank hung up then and as he moved to put his phone back in his pocket, his foot snagged on a crease in the carpet and he fell forward with a yelp. The box in his hand flew forward and landed on the floor. The beautifully decorated cupcake that he brought to help him wallow in depression rolled out onto the carpet and Hank watched as it came to a stop in front of…

Hank's eyes widened at the figure sitting in front of his door.

Blue eyes regard him timidly, warily and he stared them down until their owner averted his gaze. A freckled hand reached out to pick the cupcake off the floor and hold it in both hands.

Hank slowly stood up and as he did, so did Sean.

For an eternity of a moment they just stood there, saying nothing.

Sean broke their standstill by slowly holding the cupcake out to Hank. "Happy Birthday."

Hank hesitated before slowly reaching out and taking it from Sean's hands. He took a deep breath and expelled it in the form of a sigh. "…Happy Birthday to you."

A tentative smile turned the corners of Sean's lips upward and a long, tense moment passed before he spoke.

"I'm sorry…"

Hank averted his gaze and stumbled back, almost falling over when without warning, Sean ran forward and hugged him tight.

"Can we….can we start over?"

Sean murmured against his neck and Hank sighed again, not speaking for the longest time.

After about a minute, his hands came up to enfold Sean in his arms.

"You're an asshole…but I love you."


End file.
